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Poetry is for wimps. It's all about doilies and butterfly wings, or stuff so personal only the writer could possibly know what it's about, which really makes me crazy. And half the time it doesn't even rhyme anyway.
--Paul Dallgas-Frey
Together with some friends, I started writing some poetry during my senior year of high school. Some are meant to be entertaining, some diss my friends or deal with strange subjects, others are more serious in nature. These appear in reverse-cronological order. Please do not reproduce these without permission.
Through the blue garden she walked.
Over blue streams and blue rocks.
Short trees and strange grass she mocked.
He found her and long they talked:
"Please end that grudge that you got."
And she thought
and thought
...and Thought.
Then through the new world they walked.
Dry dirt crawls with no end
Crumbling walls cracked with gray
Sandwiched in lie hordes of men
Standing still no one gay
Wetness creeps toward dazed birds
Paths shadowed by thick clouds
Mouths utter empty words
Lost amongst broken crowds
Plants stink of dead black tar
Puddles form thick with foam
Hopeless moves to afar
Stumbling for the path home
Gone is good guiding light
Shining bright at paths right
steel cold shivers
hollow emptiness
awaited promises forgotten
thudly silence
indifferent abandonment
mutual feeling
smiling banter
joyous laughter
gazeful stupor
ignorance of all
simmering anger
quiet acknowledgement
burning frustration
unmatched passion
outward endorsement
Of all these movies that we could now see,
Friend, let's see Star Trek! There's Insurrection.
Yeah, normal people go, people like me,
All eating popcorn, what an invention.
Outside we'll find trekkies, pushing to peek,
Wearing strange costumes, living fantasies.
Where else could you find such people to meet,
All loving Star Trek -- hey don't call them freaks.
We'll see the whole crew, Picard, Data, Troi.
It will be enjoyable, like always.
You'll have so much fun -- can't handle your joy.
Please, try to relax -- you'll love it for days.
The adventures they have are always great.
Seeing Enterprise, you just want to cry.
Klingons and Borg that we all love to hate,
You know you love it -- admit it -- don't lie.
Vorta that creep, fuzzy tribbles that purr,
The Ferrengi who cheat, Trills who don't die.
Let everyone cheer as Picard shouts, "No sir!"
Watching all this great fun gives newfound high.
Ah, it's over -- applaud -- stretch your legs
What sweet music! Forget those cliches...
No I won't give you that knife that you beg!
You know you loved it, see it again today?
Washing waves wisk and echo
Modest earth veiled smooth
Sheltered dim from brisk cold
Smears of pine stain sleepy air
Clicks fade in deep lull
Thoughts murmur nothing said
Light crawls o'er rugged ground
Depths float to join sky
Dew dribbles, plop drop by drop
Soft chirps permeate hung smoke
Hard chill battles warmth above
Hands probe the hidden path
Earth breached by pounding foes
Grumbles run the waking cloth
Naked flesh cracked wide
Crawlers flee changing times
Peeps devoured by screaming power
Rays of warmth as all combine
This is a revision of Gone which I had written earlier.
Like a warm sun ray that captures my day
Gentle she is, words can't even express
Her beauty is soft in dreams while I lay
When she is not here, I feel so much less
The world falls sullen and crawls to slow end
For when she departs, I know the great void
So hopeless and bleak with light don't know when
But when she returns, reversal of joy
The masses roar loud, instilled with found life
Deep passion and heart, so rare does one see
And sudden absense of internal strife
With found feeling, none shout louder than we
Those special as her are hard to come by
But now when she's here, I can't help but cry
Please leave me alone and never come back.
Are thee just a fool or truly on crack?
My mother warned me to strangers not to talk.
Go away good sir and find another to stalk.
I only date doctors or rich men in suits.
Those with no money like shephards I boot.
I won't feed thy flock, I am not thy maid.
Doth thou really think thou will get laid?
Sure some may think a great poet thou are,
But Raleigh and Shakespeare best thee by far.
Pleasure with thee I don't care to seek.
I only grow faint from putrid stinks of thee.
I won't sleep on flowers, only goose down,
And maybe on waterbeds would I rest my crown.
Why spend such time with these sheep that I see?
Don't thou feel sheepish without a TV?
Keep away your unsanitized gray gowns of wool,
I'm allergic to sheep, get me furs or some jewels.
If thou really do hope to capture my heart,
Sell all of thy flock, and buy me a new car.
Don't take me outside. I hate the outdoors.
No straw, no coral, no amber, please... no more!
Just leave me alone, take a hint, be off sir!
If thou hath more to say, please call my lawyer.
Dashing through the hallows for a rose
Agonzing dawn to starry night
No or maybe, yes
Come with me if you please, my friend
Evening awaits, impending. Will it be?
Like an immense sun ray captures my day
Gentle she is, words can't even express
Her beauty is such, how soft I can't say
When she is not there, I feel so much less
It seems like the world has come to an end
For when she departs, I feel the great void
So large and dark, there'll be light don't know when
But when she returns, reversal of joy
The crowds will all roar, instilled with new life
With great emotion, so rare do you see
And sudden absense of internal strife
With joint feeling, none shout louder than we
Those as unique as her, they're hard to come by
If ever she's gone, you can't help but cry
This poem is a parody of Shakespeare's #71.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall see me in sullen hell
Give warning to Drennan that I have fled
From this vile world, where physics loves to dwell.
Nay if you scan this line, remember not
That it's dactylic; for I loath that so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
Rather, finals alone should make you woe.
Oh, if, I say you look at this verse,
When you see harmonic motion's not gay,
Do not so much as transverse waves curse,
But let your even with my grades decay,
Lest the wise world see you take such classes,
And mock you with me for being an ass.
months remain til the dreaded days of end
tapes of shows to watch, email left to send
ponder great tam works, catch more z's in bed
find who warned cyn! what's that the spoiler said?
weeks remain til the dreaded days of end
from sick amit, my calendar defends
planning group movies, showtimes i must find,
off to AMC! left someone behind :(
days remain til the dreaded days of end
find the "perfect girl," diss the football men
defend pooh from syl, pc world to read
buffy to watch, ewwwwwww, dawson did the deed?!
Guess I should find my physics notes and junk...
Why do I know finals I'm going to flunk?
Staying up so late, doing college apps
Go to hell U Penn -- your topics suck crap
Brown's handwriting -- Princeton wants 4 blurbs
Rather chat with friends -- but don't be a perv
Sick jokes told all night -- some with just no taste
Scrawling some BS -- sealing 'lopes in haste
Don't talk! Do your apps...! No, it's almost dawn!
Worked for 12 hours -- now must use the john
Four months down the road, letters come back
"Sorry grades are bad, and good taste you lack"
Then you get depressed, get the hard liquor
TRY to cheer up, but say no to the whore
College apps just suck, really don't you see?
Gosh, I'm glad I'm done -- unlike you I'm FREE!